


Black Winter Night

by semantics



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semantics/pseuds/semantics
Summary: Zenos gets carried away thinking about his prey. Set post-Yanxia battle.





	Black Winter Night

**Author's Note:**

> The WoL is based on my friend's hence the Elezen and not gender neutral pronouns. Enjoy this self-indulgent bit.
> 
> This is a repost since it was removed as someone reported it.

He let out a contented sigh when the silk of the gown met his skin. The steam bath had ravaged it of anything left over from the day’s business, the usual mixture of sweat and blood that congregated underneath his armour.  Zenos plopped a towel over his head and wandered into his quarters, hearing the distant pops and booms of resistance fighting in the east. Peering out into the night, the castle was mostly still save for a few patrols. Another explosion caught his attention and he watched a flurry of sparks shot into the sky. Echoes and an orange hue spilled across the hill tops.

_ Savages… _

That they were. He had struggled to discover a term that so succinctly summed up their existence apart from this. Vermin had been considered and quickly shelved under the sage advice of one of the councilors. The song and dance of the court held very little interest, so he left them to their own devices, preferring to keep quiet until it was necessary to speak. Not that any of them would oppose him in the least – they always had time to listen to the Imperial Viceroy. The option offered to them when they did not had, unsurprisingly, never been approached.

His bed commanded the entire room, similar to his throne, front and center, four posts of finest marble with heavy velvet curtains. Each footstep he took resonated on the stone floors, his shuffles making laps of the room before he settled on the mattress.  _ All eyes are still upon me here… _ Despite him being the only one within his chambers, he felt surrounded. The balconies left him open to the world outside, ally and foe alike. What little other furniture there was cornered him as if he were a bear before a pack of dogs. Ala Mhigan architecture was a lot to be desired. Simplistic and plain, crudely carved stone, no doubt done by hand that made him sneer. What little development these people had before Garlemald had deemed them worthwhile to invade. Now they spat it back in their face, satisfied enough with the morsels given to them, throwing tantrums over freedom and other oddities.  _ How exhausting... _

He tugged on a golden curtain tie and sighed in relief as the fabric sheltered him. Thankfully, there were multiple layers so that any unwelcome visitors at this hour would not be met with the vision of him now devoid of his robe, sprawled upon the sheets. Bare as a newborn babe, he felt his muscles release, tension leaving from his limbs as if they were a fleeing dream. As his mind scryed through the day’s events, it returned to that same thought that now chased him whenever he had a moment’s peace. That one face that haunted him, pale and oh so serene, eyes that threw daggers at him, spitting and wishing for his end.  That slender body at his feet, broken but defiant still, chest heaving…The little glimmer in their eyes as he dented his helmet.

_ Gods… _ If only they had been alone perhaps the right would’ve panned out differently. Of course, the savages had to show up and ruin it, the acting viceroy failing at her duties once again. So many little huts that no one would have noticed them store away into. A few minutes alone together, stolen. He would fight at first and that was part of the joy as they locked lips, Zenos relishing destroying what little resistances the elf had left. Zenos could recognise his own and he saw that same hunger that burned with him. He would acquiesce, letting him devour him there and then,both of their mouths meeting in a haze of teeth and claws.  Wounds that would be licked clean, suckled and tormented so they could drink deep.

Zenos slid his tongue against his palm slowly, envisioning him suckling on the other’s neck the coppery sting of blood driving him wild, hands scrambling underneath his robes to rid him of his greaves. A guttural groan reverberated in his throat, swallowed by the vastness of his quarters, when he gripped himself tight, bypassing the usual slow burn for instant gratification. The day had been long and tested his patience to his limits, at least now he could do as he pleased without fear of reprisal. His free hand traveled to his chest, deft fingers pinching his nipple, coaxing haggard gasps between thrusts into his fist.

It was a shame for such a pretty mouth to not be put to good use. On his knees before him, the elf’s painted lips smeared and swollen from lavishing his cock with sucks and kisses. Zenos would encourage him, a hard tug on that lengthy plait of snowy hair, reminding him of his duty to his new master. He could envision that heat about him, a high-pitched squeak leaving him as his pumps grew more desperate, drops of precum beginning to leak onto his hand.  His nails dug into his chest, leaving red streaks of broken skin as he envisioned the sweet sensation of plunging into him, feeling his body grip around him as he came, spitting Zenos’s name with the same vehemence as a curse. As quick as he had started, the sudden warmth pooling on his belly brought him back to reality, his body sinking into the sheets following the rapture of shivers that left him wanting for breath, his final moans bellowing into the night.

“Ah…Look what you made me do…” Zenos scooped the mess onto his palm, his release was thick following weeks of abstinence.  He smirked, licking it clean, savouring every drop, envisioning the warrior watching him gulp his release down hungrily on his knees before him, a meek blush travelling across the apples of his cheeks. He shivered, suddenly feeling the chill of the evening air from the balcony. He gathered a fistful of blankets and smothered himself in warmth, attempting in vain to exile the hollow room, nay, the entire useless country from his space but it was no use. Another boom in the distance was an excruciating reminder that he was trapped here with naught but himself for company.

Perhaps someday they would join him. Beasts were known to hunt in packs after all. Zenos wished his pet a good night’s rest as his own eyes grew heavy, his body exhausted from the weight of the Empire’s expanding borders and his daydreaming.

As it did every night since they met, a white wolf danced in his dreams that he could never ensnare. The beast always dissipated as the sun rose, searing its flesh and reducing it to cinders. He woke at dawn, the taste of ash engulfing his mouth, asking the same question to the vast stone chamber.

“Will you walk into my halls today my pet??”

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Red Winter Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483547) by [DeiXIV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeiXIV/pseuds/DeiXIV)




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